Charade
by MiravsStella
Summary: After the others are forced to leave her behind in the Fifth Ark, Lightning is stranded in Eden.  Forced to take up a disguise, she is thrust back into society- a bit too close to a certain Primarch for comfort... Disclaimer: I don't own FFXIII.
1. Nuisances

"Ma'am, you can't possibly tolerate this! PSICOM is being completely uncooperative!"

"It's only business, Wanda. They'll come around eventually."

"But, Miss Schiffer…"

The young woman whined loudly, secretly grinning when she got her superiors mouth to quirk upwards in a smile. She brushed her light blonde hair out of her eyes, squinting at the woman sitting behind the desk before her. Wanda was only an assistant, but she was practically glowing with the fact that the great Marion Schiffer- the woman who was her _idol_- had chosen to work with her personally. She wasn't sure why Miss Schiffer seemed to be fond of her, but she definitely didn't complain.

Marion Schiffer- the recently instated head of the Schiffer Corporation, and niece to the former head, Adriana Schiffer. A slightly taller than average young woman, with looks that had many of the men in Eden admiring her from afar. Dark, wavy brown hair tumbled down her back, and green eyes that seemed to pierce straight through you. Wanda didn't really care about that though- it was more of Miss Schiffer's charisma that caused her to try to emulate her.

She just had a way of conducting herself; she was graceful, witty, and clever- everything that Wanda herself wanted to be. Of course, seeing as she was the head of the largest weapons manufacturing company in all of Cocoon, she would have to be. Miss Schiffer could be very charming when she wanted to, as well.

Currently, Marion had calmly explained a situation about a business deal with the infamous military group, in which they had refused to conduct a bargain deal with them. Naturally, Wanda was outraged; how dare they snub Miss Schiffer?

"Wanda, could you deliver these to the fourth floor, please?"

She was incredibly polite, too. Wanda nearly stumbled in her eagerness to do what Miss Schiffer ordered.

"And while you're there, send Derrick up, would you?"

Wanda's joy quickly turned to discontent. She hated hearing that name, her rival for the attention of Miss Schiffer. They were both eager to help her and gain her favor, though not for the petty reasons of wanting to be named heir or anything. She had been shocked to learn of the assassination attempts on Miss Schiffer, and would never dream of having enough ambition for that.

As she left the room, Marion Schiffer watched her go almost wistfully, before sighing and slumping in her chair.

"I hate this goddamn job," she muttered.

* * *

><p>The rhythmic clang of metal on metal was interrupted only by heavy breathing and grunting. Sidestep, slash, duck, slash, switch to gun mode, shoot… it was a pattern that had been going on for quite awhile. Sweat coated her limbs from the exertion, and she felt satisfied when she finally made a rent in the shell of her opponent. The only move that was required next was to stick her Blazefire Saber in the gash and then quickly leap back to avoid the ensuing explosion.<p>

Pulsework Knights were incredibly dull-witted, but they required a great deal of patience to deal with single-handedly. Beside her, Fang danced around her opponent, managing to somehow lop off its head before it could take another swing at her. Lightning relaxed her pose slightly, finally allowing her guard to be let down. The machines were more of a nuisance than anything; they took ages to destroy. She flourished her weapon, transforming it back into a gun and placing it in her sheath with relative ease. Fang was doing some kind of victory dance with her lance.

Lightning rolled her eyes in exasperation before giving Fang a pointed look, prompting her companion to clasp her weapon onto her back. The Pulsian warrior noticed the look, jade eyes brimming with amusement.

"What?" she asked, the usual feral grin hanging on her visage. "Have I got something on my face?" She sauntered up to her, slapping a hand on Lightning's shoulder in a way akin to Snow. Sometimes she wondered if Fang had actually grown up around boys, or if that was just the way she was.

Lightning had stated her intention to scout up ahead, while Fang insisted that she tag along for the ride. Her excuse was that Lightning was a trouble magnet, and that she wanted in on the fun. She hadn't complained; another fighter could be useful, just in case she suddenly found herself surrounded by Greater Behemoths or something of that nature. Pulsework Knights were easier, but it would have been a pain to take on two single-handedly.

"We ought to get moving, eh, Sunshine?" suggested Fang, already striding confidently down the tunnel. She still had her smirk plastered on her face, and Lightning only stood with her thoughts for a few more moments before following. The Pulsian had insisted on taking point, much like their first encounter in Palumpolum. The soldier didn't argue with that, since she knew that Fang would just ignore her protests.

Their encounter with Raines had left them all exhausted. Seeing as how Lightning was the only one in their group to be able to keep fighting for hours on end, she had decided to clear a path through the Ark for the rest. They would find a suitable place to stop and wait for the rest to catch up later; right now, they were just trying to get through it.

Lightning smoothly pulled out her Blazefire Saber again to stab an Ahriman that flew out from the shadows, about to shoot a Fira at her. She wasn't fond of the idea of looking like a barbecued soldier.

"Aww," groaned Fang, looking envious. "You couldn't have left that one for me?"

"You can have the next one."

"You're a darling, Sunshine."

"You owe me," warned Lightning, a smile playing at her mouth. She couldn't help it; she enjoyed the banter that went back and forth between the two of them. It provided some much needed entertainment when there wasn't any to be had.

They emerged from the tunnel to find themselves in yet another colossal, open room. Water thundered down from the large drainage pipes, filling up the dark lake far below them. They edge along the wall, neither of them eager to fall to their deaths in a place like this. Lightning herself wasn't too worried, as she had an extra Grav-Con unit at her belt, but Fang had no such device. Sure, she could always dive after her- but then there would be the problem of getting back up.

Once they managed to slip into another tunnel, she turned to Fang. "Any clue where we are?"

Fang and Vanille seemed to have some kind of strange intuition when it came to getting through the Ark. None of them could say for sure yet whether they were right, but at least they hadn't ended up in the same place twice or something. In answer to her question, Fang pondered for a moment, before shrugging.

"I'm guessing that we're getting closer to the edge of it. There's probably some kind of gate somewhere," she mused, running her fingers through her hair. She glanced out at the area they'd just exited. "Seems like a good place to camp, yeah? I say we hunker down and wait for the rest here."

It was a reasonable suggestion, and normally Lightning wouldn't have argued. However, that day she was particularly restless, for reasons unknown. She wanted to keep moving and give herself something to do, and she made her decision quickly.

"You stay here and wait," she ordered. "I'm going on ahead."

Fang blinked a few times. "You sure? I know you hate fighting those knights." When Lightning only glowered at her, she raised her hands defensively. "Fine, fine. Whatever floats your boat."

She nodded, grateful that Fang understood. Lightning went on ahead, leaving the Pulsian whistling to herself.

The pink haired woman kept a sharp eye out for monsters that could be lurking about. No corner went unsearched, and she even checked some spaces twice. It was a habit of hers, from scouting the outskirts of Bodhum; a wild Behemoth had once gotten the jump on her when she'd let her guard down. That had not been a pleasant experience, and she was certain she still had the scar on her right arm.

The silence felt heavy as she continued to walk briskly. The Fifth Ark was an eerie place to be in alone, and she hadn't encountered any monsters for quite a while. A door appeared ahead of her after awhile, opening on its own in a sophisticated manner that could hardly be believed of such an ancient place.

She cursed when she realized that she had stepped inside a Hibernatorium. Several Berserkers wandered about listlessly, not really paying any heed to her presence- at least, not yet. Lightning took one slow step backwards, and then another, knowing that to take on one alone was not something she could do easily.

Perhaps now was the time to retreat and go back to Fang and the rest. The nearest Berserker froze, and she was certain that its eyes- wherever they were- were fixed on her form.

Options flew through her head. The thing would be on her in a single bound; there wasn't enough time to get back through the door. She could always summon Odin if need be, but she felt like it would be wasting her Eidolon, as her crystal would take forever to charge back up again. They engaged in a staring contest with one another, neither one making a single move.

After a while, the monster seemed to decide that she wasn't worth it, and began to crawl around the room slowly again, all but ignoring her presence. Lightning let a single breath of relief escape from her, and she backtracked out of the Hibernatorium, eyeing the other monsters warily in case one of them was bored enough to attack a Pulse l'Cie. Then the door shut in front of her, closing her off from the danger.

She thought she saw something out of the corner of her eye. Whirling around, she realized that there was nothing there; just the shadows dancing, then. Shrugging, Lightning headed in the direction she'd come, now even more eager to rejoin her allies.

* * *

><p>Everything seemed to have gone downhill.<p>

Lightning dove to the side of a blue fire blast, feeling how close the intense heat came to scorching her skin. Fang shouted something incoherent at Bahamut, while Vanille cried out in pain as one of the Eidolon's claws scored her arm. The summon showed no signs of yielding to the three of them, despite the fact that they were fighting all out. At her own insistence, Snow, Sazh, and Hope were keeping to the sidelines, offering Synergist assistance and (in Hope's case) healing when necessary; they were still recovering from the battle with Raines. Sazh had a particularly nasty wound from getting hit directly with a Ruinga.

At long last, Fang seized the initiative, forcing Bahamut to switch to his Gestalt Mode. The unusual mechanical dragon was quite a sight to see, but she preferred Odin a thousand times over. Her friend grinned at her, giving her the thumbs up, spirit restored, before her smile faded and she collapsed to her knees from exhaustion.

Vanille hurried over to her, looking concerned, but Fang waved her away. "You look after that gash of yours," she instructed firmly, despite Vanille's protests. Hope made his way over, kneeling next to Fang and casting a couple of Cures while Vanille tended to herself. Lightning just watched, turning to where an illuminated path had appeared out of nowhere.

"I wonder where that leads?" mused Sazh, walking up beside her. Lightning didn't answer; she didn't need to in order to let him know that she didn't have the slightest idea. Sazh accepted that, and they waited for the others to finish up with healing.

At the precise moment that they were going to move on, Lightning heard Vanille scream. Then the world suddenly became upside down for a split second and was whirling around her before she collided with something solid. She slid down what she now knew to be the wall, trying in vain to right herself and aid the rest against the… _thing._

It was some kind of Cie'th, that much she could tell; it had the telltale eye on its back (or was that its front?) and it was shrieking in the manner that many Cie'th did. However, it was tiny, probably shorter than Hope, and didn't look like it could pose a threat to anyone. So why were they standing in defensive positions, not making a single offensive move towards it?

She had her answer a moment later, when Snow had barely enough time to activate his Steelguard in order to block an enormous, ethereal fist that seemingly came out of nowhere. It had somehow sprouted from one of the Cie'th's stubby limbs, and hit Snow with enough force to knock him on his backside. Lightning was on her feet and running towards it when another fist appeared, catching her full force. The wind was knocked out of her as she flew into the air yet again, hitting the wall and going back to square one.

It took all of her effort and concentration not to black out; she forced thoughts into her head to keep her conscious. Her vision blackened at the edges, but nothing serious happened. She was on her feet again, noticing that the others were trying to get to her, but were being repelled by the monster's ability to conjure fists.

Lightning dimly registered that it shouldn't have even been possible; what kind of Cie'th was it, anyway?

She was now facing a dilemma. There was no way she could move past it, not with the summoned appendages able to predict and block her every strike, and there was no way for the others to get to her. Desperation seized her; she did not want to be stuck in the Fifth Ark, but she couldn't risk the others becoming trapped by this thing along with her. They could take the ship that Hope had sighted to Pulse, and find a way to get rid of their brands.

She, meanwhile, would have to resign herself to her Focus.

"Get out of here!" she shouted, forcing herself into a standing position once again. "Get to Pulse! I'll distract it!"

"No way in hell, Sunshine!" bellowed Fang, sprinting furiously at the Cie'th again, only to be pushed back. The Pulsian woman let loose a string of curses, her green eyes blazing in rage. She charged again, and Lightning thought she saw a tear fall.

"I'm not needed," she called, more calmly now. "You all can do this, I know it. Go on without me, before you all get trapped too!"

"We can't just"- Hope began to argue, but she shot him a cold look that shut him up immediately.

This time, she cast around until she locked eyes with Snow.

"Rescue Serah," she called urgently. "Protect her with your life."

"Sis"-

"There's no time! Get going!" she all but screamed, taking out her crystal. She closed her eyes for a moment, feeling her power stir within her. They snapped back open, and she called out her Eidolon's name.

Odin appeared in all his glory, and she was relieved to see the others moving away down the glowing path. Fang was being dragged along by Vanille and Snow, while Sazh placed a hand on Hope's shoulder. She sighed, relieved, before turning back to her opponent and narrowing her eyes.

She would have to have Odin provide a distraction so that she could swoop in and deal a fatal blow with her Blazefire Saber. Her Eidolon, already knowing what she was thinking, gave her a slight nod before charging. The Cie'th shrieked as he rained down Thundaras on it. All of the fists converged on him, trying to force him back to whatever world that he came from.

Lightning waited for a suitable opening, so that she wouldn't have her brains bashed out while trying to kill it. For a while, it seemed as though it wasn't ever going to come; the fists flew faster than she could follow, and Odin was slashing back, trying to keep it at bay.

She would have to wing it.

Taking a deep breath, she charged in blindly, dodged left and right and diving for the Cie'th in the middle of it all. It let out an unearthly scream as her blade pierced it through the chest, darkness oozing out of it. Her eyes widened in alarm as the body flashed for a moment, then exploded.

The darkness engulfed her, and for a few seconds all she could do was stumble around blindly. She had managed to kill it- that much was certain- but she didn't know what it had done to her in dying. Lightning groped around her until her hand hit something more solid. She sheathed her gunblade, placing her other hand against it.

Whatever the surface was, it was cool, and made of metal. The blackness around her was beginning to clear, revealing… an alleyway?

Enormous steel buildings rose up all around her, gleaming in the dying light of what she guessed was Phoenix. The alley was deserted, thankfully, but she had to get moving. She stumbled along, feeling sick as she realized exactly where she was.

Eden.

Right in the hornet's nest.

* * *

><p>Author's note: Not saying anything! You may have your suspicions, but I'm not giving any hints. Yes, this is CidLight, and no, it is NOT related to the 'They Walk…' series. So Lightning's not nearly as guilty about killing Raines… yet.


	2. Actions

Marion tapped her foot impatiently while the lock on her apartment door processed her fingerprint. A moment later there was a quiet 'ding', and the door slid open. She stepped inside, quickly shutting the door and pressing the button to lock it. She closed her eyes in relief, glad that another stress-inducing day at work was finally over.

Something brushed against her leg, making her jump. She stared with wide eyes at her cat, who was looking up as innocently as he could. She sighed, exasperated, before moving further into her apartment. Her purse was plopped unceremoniously on the kitchen counter, and the heels were kicked off in an unruly fashion. She wiggled her toes and revered in being able to not walk around in restrictive footwear.

"Miss Schiffer," came a voice from the living room. She turned, unsurprised to see her middle aged Butler, Edmund, bowing in the doorway. He was a graying man, but his manners were impeccable, and she respected him for his ability to not talk. His family- the Heale family- had served the Schiffers for generations, keeping the family's darkest secrets and remaining loyal to them.

"I trust your day was enjoyable," he stated, a knowing glint in his eye. Marion snorted.

"Of course it wasn't," she said tiredly. "PSICOM was being a nuisance again." He raised both of his eyebrows.

"I'm really not at all surprised, ma'am," he replied, shrugging. "What with all of the rumors of how much money you've been receiving from the Cavalry lately… Director Rosch is probably jealous that they get so much business."

"Rosch is an idiot," muttered Marion, reaching up for her hair. "He can't even see what's right in front of him." She paused in her action, glancing at Edmund out of the corner of her eye.

"I scanned the entire condo, as per your instructions," he said, bowing again. "But really, does the wig bother you that much?"

"It itches."

"Ah."

Marion pulled off her brown hair, revealing a much smaller mass of rose colored hair. Lightning shook her head back and forth several times to keep it from being pressed up against her head, and set down the wig on the counter next to her purse. She could stand the color contacts, and wouldn't bother to take those out until later.

"You are attending the Sanctum Gala next week; am I correct, Miss Schiffer?"

"Yes," replied Lightning with a snort. "Although I'd rather not spend my time around a bunch of blustering nobles and businessmen."

"If I may, you are an excellent actress, ma'am," he mused. "I'm sure you'll be capable of pulling it off without a hitch."

Lightning rolled her eyes, sometimes wishing that her butler didn't have to be so formal with her all of the time. She missed talking casually to Sazh, Fang- even Snow made for good conversation. Sometimes.

"The Primarch's going to be there, though," she said.

"Does he know you?"

"He _thinks_ he knows Marion Schiffer," muttered Lightning. "But I don't think he suspects… he used to know me. Back when he was still the leader of the Cavalry. That was only a short time, though."

He nodded, not prodding for any more information. Edmund was an excellent listener; she'd give him that much.

"Shall I cancel your daily appointment with Miss Derring?"

Lightning's eyebrow twitched. Tara Derring was a spoiled, rich brat in her opinion- one of the types who didn't need to work in order to have all of the money in the world. For some reason, she insisted on befriending Marion and forced her into coming to her little parties every day. Lightning often went out of her way to cancel them, as she had never really been one to gossip. Marion, on the other hand, could gossip in an easy, subtle way.

Normally, she would have answered in the affirmative. Seeing as how she had cancelled yesterday, and the day before that, though…

"No," she said irritably. "I'll go." As much as she wanted to tear out Tara's tongue when she saw her, she had to pretend to enjoy the stifling gatherings in order to put on a convincing attitude. She always acted very regrettable when she couldn't attend due to "business".

Had someone told her she would be living a life of luxury while being a Pulse l'Cie at the same time, she would have coldly told them to stuff it, or she would for them.

There was only one week left- one week until Rygdea gave the signal. Lightning couldn't wait for that day to come; she didn't know how much more of the high life she could take.

* * *

><p>*Four Weeks Earlier*<p>

Lightning withheld her gasp, ducking into a dark corner and holding her breath, praying that the couple striding past her wouldn't take notice of her. It would be impossible to actually venture out in the open, seeing as how her face was probably plastered all over the news casts these days. The pink hair was a complete giveaway, and not for the first time, she was annoyed by how much it stuck out like a beacon.

She could still barely comprehend the situation. Lightning was trapped in Eden, with no way back to the Fifth Ark and no idea how she had gotten there in the first place. The death of the strange Cie'th had something to do with it, that much she knew, but how could a Cie'th do something like transporting her somewhere else? It shouldn't have been possible.

However, being a practical person, she quickly set a list of goals for herself. The first? Find a suitable disguise.

The question was how to do that without completely giving herself away.

Lightning groaned. She might as well just turn herself into PSICOM and be done with it. Colonel Rosch would be all too happy to execute her.

_Focus,_ she told herself. _Stay alive for Serah. _

She could tell that she was at one of the very bottom levels of Eden, judging by how high the buildings went. Most of the people living down here were average citizens, who hopefully wouldn't be on the lookout for Pulse l'Cie. However, there were so many people with a huge fear of Pulse, and with her Guardian Corps uniform, she would draw too much attention. Her only option would be to break into some kind of clothing store, and maybe grab a hoodie to hide her most striking features.

Or… her eyes travelled to one of the pedestrians walking past the alley.

Moments later, she strode out casually, hands in her pockets, leaving behind an unconscious young man in the place where she'd just been hiding. He'd wake up later with a slight headache and missing his jacket, but other than that he hadn't been harmed. Lightning felt relieved that no one gave her a second glance as she walked down the street, feeling slightly disoriented; it was the first time in ages that she hadn't been mobbed by Sanctum troops.

She'd had to discard her Blazefire Saber in the alleyway; hopefully if someone stumbled upon it, they wouldn't have the sense to turn it into PSICOM but instead give it to the Guardian Corps. While she was relatively sure that PSICOM didn't have everyone's fingerprint, she wouldn't put it past them to do so. The Guardian Corps would just shrug, thank the person, and issue it to another deserving soldier.

Lightning no longer wore her hair draped around her shoulder as before; she'd pushed it back behind her in order to make it less visible. She typically kept her head down, trying to attract as little notice as possible. She wasn't entirely sure what she could do now.

Her stomach rumbled.

Lightning wanted to scream and pull at her hair; on top of being stuck in Eden, having to avoid being spotted, finding a disguise, trying not to get caught by the Sanctum, and just surviving, now she had to find food too? Life really hated her right then.

It wasn't as though she could just waltz into a restaurant and ask for food. She didn't exactly have any gil on her, and she couldn't risk being seen up close. Someone could spot her pink bangs that way, and then all hell would break loose. Absently, she reached up to scratch an itch in her forehead, blinking when her hand came away with blood.

Had she hit her head? She couldn't remember doing so; there had been no pain, if she had. She pressed the same hand to her forehead again, blinking when she saw that no more blood appeared. Shrugging, she continued walking listlessly down the sidewalk, barely aware of the vehicles that zoomed past.

The hairs on the back of her neck stood, and her eyes shot upward. She stood poised, alert and waiting for an invisible enemy. When nothing happened, she blinked; her sixth sense had never once failed her. Lightning guessed that, what with all of the fighting she'd been doing recently, she could be imagining things.

Still, she rested her hand on the hilt of her survival knife, hidden in the pocket of her sweatshirt. Its grip was comforting to her.

The area suddenly seemed far darker, before the lights of Eden flared, making the city glow like a beacon as it always did. She blinked; it was, if possible, even brighter than it had been during the day. Although she didn't feel tired, she knew that her body had to be close to being worn out at this point. She'd been fighting and hadn't gotten any rest for hours on end. Lightning had made the mistake of going on ahead when she could have rested with Fang while waiting for the remainder of their group.

She turned down an alleyway again, trying to remember her way around Eden. She and Serah had visited the city once when they were children, but it was all a blur, much like the rest of the memories that Lightning had of her parents. She'd put them out of her mind for so long that it was difficult to recall their faces at this point. A pang of remorse went through her, but she pushed it aside.

It wasn't as though she could really rent a room at a hotel (she really needed gil); oh well. If need be, she could always just try to catch some sleep in an alleyway. Her internal clock would ensure that she woke up before most of the civilians. If she could find a good place to hide, then she would be set for the night.

All at once, her danger sense went haywire once again. This time it was reflexive- she snapped open her knife, holding it out in a backhand grip before her. Warily, she turned around in a circle, leaving no corner unchecked for enemies.

"Pardon me."

There- on her left. She whirled, bringing her blade up to block a blow, only to find that there was no resistance against it. Out of the shadows stepped a middle aged man, with crinkled brown eyes and a blank face. He made no move to attack her, though she quickly spotted the hand gun at his belt. She didn't bother to lower the knife, in case he suddenly decided to shoot her.

"If you please," he said, bowing. "My mistress would like to have a word with you."

"And if I don't consent?" she answered harshly.

"Then I will use force if necessary."

That brought her to a dilemma. She could probably win a fight against him- no normal human stood a chance against a trained l'Cie, but that would attract too much attention from people that she didn't want getting involved. It could be a trap; there was some sort of recognition in his eyes, but she couldn't tell what it was he recognized.

After a minute of contemplation, she lowered her weapon and folded it, sticking it back in her pocket.

"Fine," she stated curtly. "But why"-

He waved his hand to cut her off. "If you don't ask questions, then neither will we."

Lightning narrowed her eyes again. That was a policy that she could handle, but at the same time she was well aware that she could be walking straight into a trap. Then again, how would PSICOM know if she was in Eden? They'd gone off the radar for awhile now, and hadn't been seen by the military group since being aboard the _Palamecia_.

He beckoned for her to follow, and she did, trailing a few steps behind him.

It was how she met Edmund for the first time.

They went through a series of dark, twisting alleyways before arriving at a derelict door, not a place that anyone of importance in Eden would usually frequent. He bowed again, holding open the door for her, but she nodded at the entrance, indicating she wanted him to go first. Lightning was still suspicious, and he could easily plant a bullet in her back. She followed him into a dark room, blinking when the lights suddenly flashed on blindingly.

The sight that greeted her was… unusual.

The man went over to stand next to an elderly woman. She seemed quite elegant for someone that old- her clothes were still fashionable, her white hair was in an elaborate bun, and she appeared to be fumbling with a laptop, but wasn't looking at it. Instead, her eyes- a striking shade of silver- were fixed upon Lightning. The woman was seated in a lavish armchair, and across from her was a chair of the same style.

"Sit," she croaked, jerking her head at the chair.

"No thank you," replied Lightning stiffly. She could be vulnerable in a seated position, even though she wasn't looking forward to being the object of the woman's wrath. She didn't appear to be the type to enjoy her orders being disobeyed.

To her great surprise, however, the woman's face broke out into a wide (albeit crooked) grin, oddly reminiscent of Fang's. She threw back her head and laughed loudly. Then, abruptly, her mood changed, and the entire room seemed to darken.

"You see," she snapped at the man, who flinched slightly. "I told you I'd chosen the right one. The moment you described her, I knew. I've finally found an heir." She turned back to a very confused Lightning. "Apologies. I haven't introduced myself. I am Adriana Schiffer; perhaps you've heard of me?"

The soldier's jaw dropped.

Schiffer? _Schiffer?_ As in, the head of Schiffer Corp.? The head of the largest weapons manufacturer in all of Cocoon was sitting in front of her… her head whirled. What would someone of this much importance want with a simple soldier? Didn't she know her face, from the news?

"No need to introduce yourself," said Adriana, grinning wickedly. "So long as you cooperate, I don't need to know anything about you. I have no clue who you are, what you are, or why you are in Eden. Are we clear on that?"

Lightning opened her mouth to answer, but Adriana cut her off.

"Excellent. I'm getting too old for this." Suddenly the elderly woman looked exhausted, about to slump in her chair, before she collected herself. "Edmund, if you could explain?"

The man beside her- Edmund- cleared his throat. "Miss Schiffer requests that you train for one week, and then come into possession of the Schiffer Corporation as her official heiress. You are welcome to refuse, but Miss Schiffer will use whatever means necessary to convince you to agree, including giving your identity directly to PSICOM."

Lightning narrowed her eyes. So, the woman suddenly chose her to be her successor? It was an odd request, but could she really refuse? It was obvious that Adriana, despite what she claimed, knew exactly who she was, and was willing to use that information however she liked. The woman was cunning, she would give her that.

What choice did she have, in the end? Still, the shock at how quickly this had happened since her arrival in Eden was still trying to reach her.

"Why me?" she asked, finally finding her voice. "Why choose me? A soldier, a Pulse l'Cie, and an enemy of Cocoon. I've never studied business once in my life"-

"-Hence the training"- Edmund stressed.

"-And I'm not cut out for striking bargains. I can't stand all of that political crap."

Adriana's shark-like grin turned positively fiendish. Lightning found herself shivering subconsciously, feeling pinned by the sharp gaze. The woman was definitely not accustomed to not getting her way.

"Edmund is right; the training will clear all of that up. As to why…" she shrugged. "Being the head of a corporation tends to make you greedy. I've been consumed by it for a long time, and I didn't just want any successor. I wanted one with _power_, someone who knows how to stand up for themselves. L'Cie, despite the fear that the world has for them, have more than enough of it. As for politics- you may not like it, but that's not to say your disguise won't."

When Lightning only stared, she cackled.

"Silly girl!" Lightning jerked at being called that. "You didn't think that you could just look different and then your masquerade would be complete, did you? You will need a change of personality as well. I'm thinking…" She studied her for a few moments, making her shift uncomfortably. "Someone flirtatious and charming, but at the same time very clever and knowledgeable. Surely you can pull that much off?"

All she could do was stare in shock. The traits that Adriana had just listed off- aside from knowledgeable- were completely out of her normal character. The fal'Cie knew that she couldn't be flirtatious and charming even if she wanted to be. As though the older woman was reading her mind, she said, "Even when your survival depends on it?"

_Well, when you put it _that _way…_

Lightning was nothing if not practical. She would do what needed to be done.

"Let's say I accepted," she said slowly. "When would my training begin?"

"Immediately," replied Edmund. Adriana looked bored, almost as though she had planned for all of these questions.

"Is there anything specific you would want me to not do? For example, once I'm the head of the company, I could destroy it, if I wanted."

Both of them jerked at this, clearly not expecting it. Edmund's mouth flopped open, while Adriana gripped the arms of her chair tightly.

"I suppose it's up to you," she admitted, looking reluctant. "I have no say in your actions once you take charge."

Only Lightning had no intention of shutting down Schiffer Corp. A thousand options were running through her head now, all of which she could use to topple the Sanctum and push Barthandelus out of power, thereby preventing Cocoon's eventual destruction. She could fund the Cavalry (though she would have to take care when doing so), she could trip up PSICOM's attempts to get weaponry- there was so much she would be able to influence. The possibilities were endless.

"We can fund your disguise," said Adriana, watching her carefully. "Your hair, I notice, is very distinctive. So are your eyes, though not quite as much. Not to mention that you probably need clothing other than your Guardian Corps uniform, correct?"

Lightning started; just how long had Adriana been watching her?

"You can choose your wardrobe, but it can't be anything too reserved. In order to be convincing, you're going to have to show a bit more skin, wouldn't you agree?"

Edmund coughed slightly. "Her uniform already shows quite a bit, ma'am."

"Arms and legs don't count," snapped Adriana. "I'm talking about… other areas."

Trying to keep from appearing completely befuddled (and slightly creeped out) by Adriana's musing, Lightning said loudly, "I accept."

"Splendid!" exclaimed Adriana, clapping her hands together. The shark grin returned. "Of course, you'll need a convincing cover story, which I can provide. What's your name?"

"I thought"-

"No, no, no, not _your _name."

It took a few seconds before Lightning realized exactly what the elderly woman was asking of her.

"… Marion Schiffer."

* * *

><p>*Present Time*<p>

Lightning absentmindedly stroke her cat, thinking to herself while she waited for Edmund to get the car. Had she really made as much of a difference as she originally hoped? Sometimes she thought that it wasn't really the things around her that she changed, but herself instead. Was this was Raines had meant, back in the Fifth Ark?

_"… but was a puppet with no will to wield it…" _

No, that wasn't right; she was not a puppet, and she was doing something. Whether or not it would actually work, or even if she would survive, was still to be determined. She was treading in dangerous waters here.

One week left.

* * *

><p>Author's note: Some of you may think that Lightning ended up being a bit out of character (sorry about that), but I think she would take the initiative to do whatever she could. Hmm… I wonder what her plans could be?<p>

What did you think of Adriana? I wanted her to seem a little bit insane… and now I feel bad for Edmund, for having to work for her. Hopefully the time skips aren't too confusing… the next chapter should start with Lightning starting her training. Hopefully you aren't completely bored by it all.

Review please! I would love to hear from my readers!


	3. Signs

"I can assume that you have no need of combat training, right?"

Lightning nodded. Edmund was currently leading her through the streets of Eden, where many of the city lights had finally gone out. It was strange, being in the dark and yet still having quite a few people bustling about, probably either going to or coming from parties that had numerous alcoholic drinks involved. She didn't know who was training her, or even how she was being trained; all she knew was the he was leading her to a facility that would serve such purposes.

How they were going to cram her education into one week was beyond her. As she'd stated before, she was fairly certain that she wasn't cut out for business, and this had come up so suddenly; she'd be lucky if PSICOM didn't see her as a target immediately.

According to Adriana Schiffer, she was to be kept hidden until the announcement the following week, in which she would induct herself after being introduced by Adriana herself. The redundancy was not lost on her, but apparently that was how the blue bloods of society usually functioned- by overdoing and dramatizing everything.

They arrived at a tall tower, which was glowing with all of the colors of the rainbow. Advertisements were all over the sides of the building, showing various products that civilians would desire. Lightning didn't show any kind of surprise, but inside she was wondering why they would go to such an obnoxious location.

"After you, ma'am," he said, bowing. Normally she would only have those words spoken to her in a sarcastic tone, but Edmund was actually being genuine. She found that she disliked that; he was far too polite for her tastes. They stepped into a clean, fancy lobby, with elaborate mosaics all over the walls and a fountain in the center.

"Miss Schiffer wanted your training facilities to be aesthetically pleasing to the eye," he informed her. "I hope you find it satisfactory."

Lightning would have laughed, but she didn't want to ridicule him. She had learned about being soldier in a gray room with a bunch of smelly, overexcited men. Compared to that, the place was like Heaven. She guessed that Adriana must not have really been shooting for discipline if she was being taught in a building with such ornate decorations.

"I understand that you're probably hungry," said Edmund, gesturing to a sliding door on the left. "The dining hall is in this direction; if you would like to tell me what you want to eat…"

It then occurred to Lightning that she hadn't eaten for at least a day. Her stomach, as though to accentuate that point, let out a loud rumble. She didn't want whoever was cooking to go completely over the top, and so told Edmund that all she wanted was some salad. Not exactly filling, but she was used to eating lightly; it had become a habit of hers over the years. He bowed again, and left.

She wondered if she was allowed to wander around, but decided that she should probably just wait in the dining hall, which was just as, if not more, impressive than the lobby. Several statues of celebrated fal'Cie lined the sides of the room, and the table was incredibly long. The seat, no doubt sensing her body heat or something, moved out so that she could seat herself. Lightning shifted slightly, uncomfortable with so many luxuries. She found herself missing the simple times, when she and Serah would eat takeout and chat together in the kitchen.

Edmund returned bearing a plate of salad. Thankfully, he must have guessed that she would be more reserved, for there wasn't much on it aside from lettuce, tomatoes, croutons, and dressing. Eating in peace and silence wasn't something she was accustomed to anymore, and it felt unusual for her jaws to be crunching on the lettuce in a dull, robotic pattern. She ate every last bit, feeling not completely satisfied, but alright with it for now.

Edmund left, but not before directing her to the elevator. Her quarters were apparently on the fifth floor. He explained that she had the entire floor all to herself, and that there was a button she could push to ring him up if she required anything. Lightning thanked him, taking a moment to just take it all in while he left.

It was barely believable, and yet she felt guilty too. Here she was, living a life that many would gladly give an arm for, while her friends all fought for survival down in Gran Pulse. She hoped against hope that they would see sense and try to find a way to stop their brands, even without her. Surely Snow would realize that they had a chance to see her if they tried, right?

Right?

She sighed, shaking herself, and headed for the elevator. She really needed some sleep. Getting off on the fifth floor and not even paying attention to her surroundings, she found a room with an enormous bed. Collapsing on it in her clothes, she conked out.

"So you see, we have numerous colors and styles for you to choose from. You've already settled on the green eye contacts, but you need an appropriate change of hair, too."

Lightning gawked. Laid before her were what seemed like a hundred wigs, with no two wigs being the same. They actually seemed quite realistic, too, but after trying several on, she found that she didn't like them one bit. They itched horribly.

She had explored her rooms more thoroughly upon awakening- or at least, she would have, had Edmund not come in and insist that she get cleaned up and have a change of clothes. The bathtub was literally a pool, but the warm water had been relaxing. She had been in dire need of a bath for days now, and it felt good to be clean.

Her clothing consisted of a white blouse with the sleeves cut off at the elbow and a pencil skirt. It was a part of her new wardrobe, which Adriana had somehow already commissioned for her. She already disliked it- the blouses were practically see-through, and the skirts (while not abominably short), were still uncomfortable. Not to mention the number of stylish dresses that had been chosen for her, along with her worst nemesis: heels.

Lightning also had to get into the habit of applying makeup every morning, which she insisted on doing herself, even though Edmund had offered to have an artist come in and do it for her. Her rooms consisted of a bathroom (again, basically a pool and a toilet), a large and fancy bedroom, and an even larger room where she could practice fighting when she wanted.

Already, the latter was her favorite. One of the walls was made up entirely of windows, and presented an amazing view of the city. She could meditate in there to her heart's content once the day's training was finished.

She picked up another wig, with dark brown hair that would drop past her shoulders, though not as far as her waist. It had some bangs, giving her more of a modernized look. Looking in the mirror, she decided that it matched her now-green eyes the best.

"I'll use this one," she stated, with a look at Edmund.

"Excellent choice, Miss Schiffer," he said, bowing. As soon as she was put in charge, she was going to tell him to stop bowing to her every other minute. "I'll have several more copies made. After several days, one wig can smell rather… unpleasant."

She didn't think that she needed any facial structure changes; plenty of women had heart-shaped faces. Lightning put on the wig, and decided that she might as well start trying to act the part of Marion Schiffer. "What's on the agenda today?" she asked, making her voice sound slightly more alluring. Inwardly, she cringed at the change from her usual straightforward tone.

He did more than answer her question- he gave her a layout of the entire week's schedule. Monday: practice walking with and without heels, learn manners, sit differently, and overall learn to fit into her new personality. Tuesday: she had to continue to practice being Marion Schiffer, and they would begin her business lessons. Wednesday would be a continuation of the previous day, and Thursday was learning how to behave at social functions- what to say, what to do, who to talk to, etc. Friday and Saturday would be spent learning all of the big names in business as well as prominent politicians, and what their tendencies were. Rivals, allies, people who could pose a deadly threat…

"Several assassination attempts have been made from rival families over the years," explained Edmund.

Wonderful.

Adriana herself would come in at the end of each day to assess her, which Lightning found herself feeling slightly nervous about. The woman had an air of intimidation that she usually only attributed to Amodar and Galenth Dysley- or Barthandelus. She could tell that any slip up would be highly critiqued, and she would most likely slip up very often.

Her lessons began in earnest. Walking, apparently, required her to sway her hips slightly (she couldn't believe that Edmund was telling her all of this with a straight face; he even had a list on his laptop, for fal'Cie's sake!), and for her to be less rushed. Being a quick learner, she got the hang of it fairly quickly; all that was left was to be careful that she didn't fall into the habit of her old self.

The entire time, she tried to act the way she envisioned Marion Schiffer acting: confident yet humble, polite yet witty. She had to learn to sit less stiffly, but still be straight and proud at the same time. After somehow managing to do so for about half an hour, she glanced at Edmund.

"Will my Great-Aunt be coming now, Edmund?" she asked, remembering to keep her voice slightly softer.

"I believe so, ma'am."

"That's wonderful," she said, offering a pleased smile.

It hurt her face.

* * *

><p>At the top of a cliff on Gran Pulse, a brown haired woman stared up at the floating shell. Suddenly, she stabbed her spear into the earth, fell to her knees, and screamed.<p>

And screamed.

And screamed.

* * *

><p>Lightning passed the week with an ease that surprised her. Perhaps she really was getting more used to her role as a member of the elite class. Each night, while Adriana had many corrections, she had managed to rise to her mentor's expectations. The day of the announcement was growing closer, and her 'homework' was to write her speech for after Adriana gave the word. And so she found herself, with a newly bought laptop, staring blankly at a word document on the screen, completely barren of any ideas as to what to write.<p>

The only word that she had written was, "Greetings."

It sounded right, for her personality, at least. She banged her head on the table, trying to put together an intelligible sentence, but was at a loss. Lightning realized that she couldn't exactly afford to think like herself… she had to think like Marion. She hadn't wanted it to come to that, but now she couldn't even afford to keep her thoughts as her own.

Marion… would want to be inspiring. She was sure of that. She would strive to do anything she could to improve the company, and at the same time, she could still have ulterior motives. Lightning found herself nodding slowly, and began typing. Suddenly, she couldn't wait for Sunday to come.

"How are you today, Marion?" barked Adriana, not really sounding as though she cared. Marion offered a wry smile.

"Just fine, Aunt Adriana," she replied, still smirking. "Though I must say, writing speeches doesn't fail to work up an appetite."

The elderly Schiffer's face lit up with delight, though whether it was the prospect of getting food or the nature of her response, Marion couldn't tell.

"You're getting better at this," she remarked, confirming that it had been the latter. "Why, I believe you might even be able to charm the Primarch himself! He's certainly a handsome fellow…"

Marion wrinkled her nose. Dysley? Handsome? Those two words didn't deserve to be in the same sentence.

"Much more so than the last one," finished Adriana.

_Last one?_ "There's a new Primarch?" she asked; she didn't need to fake her confusion, as it was real enough. Adriana gave her a look.

"Get into the habit of watching the news," she snapped, narrowing her silver eyes. "The new Primarch used to be the head of the Cavalry, from what I've heard. I forgot his name, but… Marion?"

Lightning felt as though the world was spinning around her. She put a hand to her forehead, trying to keep the shock at bay. Impossible… there was no way that he could be alive. She had seen him die; she had seen him turn to crystal!

It was all she could do to keep from snarling Barthandelus' name out loud in fury. It must've been him; he had to have revived Raines in order to retire, so that he could cook up some diabolical scheme that probably involved the six l'Cie. Did that mean that the others were in danger? Her thoughts were racing at a million miles per hour, and she barely noticed Adriana waving a hand in front of her face, trying to gain her attention.

"Marion!"

At last, Adriana's sharp tone managed to snap her out of it.

"My apologies," she said, sighing. "I was lost in thought."

"Good comeback," muttered Adriana. She couldn't tell whether she was being sarcastic or serious. Her 'aunt' remained an enigma to her.

Adriana Schiffer had explained her back story to her several days ago; she'd stated that her brother, who had supposedly been disowned by the family many years ago, had a daughter (her), when he suddenly died of illness. Ever since then, Marion herself had been raised in seclusion to take her role as the head of the company. Given the drama of the family that she had been learning about, Lightning thought it was a very believable story.

She had been presented with a datapad several days ago, which she was able to download her speech onto. According to Edmund, all that was now left was to choose something suitable to wear.

_Of course_ there had to be a party involved.

Of course.

* * *

><p>Cid Raines had never been one for social functions- specifically the type thrown by the elite members of society for events that had little or no relevance to the actual well-being of the floating shell they lived in. For the sake of politeness (and so that the press didn't chew him out for it), he chose not to fall asleep during Adriana Schiffer's long address on how much she treasured her company and the list of how much Schiffer Corp. had done for the Sanctum.<p>

He was wearing a suit, as these sorts of things demanded formality (as much as he wanted to prance around singing like an unruly teenager). His advisors had been adamant that he attend the party, in order for a show of good faith.

He blinked; he hadn't even noticed when the old hag stepped off of the podium, leaving a stunning young woman in her place. Clad in a scarlet dress that hugged her curves nicely, the woman began speaking, starting out with several comments that made the audience chuckle. Her introduction as Marion Schiffer went past him; he wasn't listening in the slightest.

There was something about her that was very familiar.

He couldn't quite put his finger on it, though. It wasn't the way she looked- no one he specifically knew had dark brown hair and peridot eyes. It wasn't the way she spoke, either; she had a way of speaking that drew in the listener, making them want to hear more.

No, he decided, it was the way she stood. It was decidedly too stiff for someone her personality- he could see the way her muscles were taut, as though she were a lot more nervous than she let on.

"Areas in which we are weak will be improved, and areas in which we are already at maximum potential will remain at maximum potential."

Even as she spoke, her muscles relaxed, but it was probably a forced relaxation. He frowned to himself, studying her intently. What was it about the stiffness that was so familiar?

"…that the Schiffer Corporation is not just a company that sells weapons, but a company that supports the people of Cocoon."

Marion Schiffer, as she had introduced herself, finished with a little bit of flair, causing everyone present to break out into applause. Adriana had a very conceited look on her face, obviously pleased with her choice of successor. Cid was mildly impressed that someone so young managed to keep her cool in front of so many observers.

The guests broke up, wandering around the dance floor while music drifted across the area. Several highly honored employees of Schiffer Corp. were already crowding the younger Schiffer, bombarding her with questions that she answered gracefully. Her butler soon shooed them away, and she settled to speak with a representative from another company, a champagne glass in her hand.

He soon found himself having a close discussion with Yaag Rosch, who had been appointed as the new PSICOM director upon Jihl Nabaat's death. It wasn't long before Adriana dragged her niece over to greet the Primarch; of course she would want her heiress to have as many connections as possible.

"I'll leave you two to introduce yourselves," said the old woman, before snapping for Marion's butler to follow her. As the man dutifully wandered away, Marion offered them both a cordial smile.

"Good evening," she said, her voice quiet but firm. "It's an honor."

"The honor is all mine, Miss Schiffer," replied Raines just as smoothly, offering his hand. She took it, and he couldn't help but notice how carefully controlled her handshake was. Or perhaps it was his imagination; he couldn't really tell. "Congratulations."

"Thank you," she replied with a nod. She turned to Yaag. "PSICOM Director Rosch, I'm pleased to meet you as well."

"Likewise." He opened his mouth to say more, but one of his subordinates was waving him over. "My apologies, I have business," he said curtly, before striding quickly away.

"Is it very difficult, leading a nation?" Raines was startled by the question being directed at him, as well as the forwardness of it. Marion studied him with surprisingly sharp eyes, as though calculating his response.

"That usually depends on the nation," he replied carefully. It would be dangerous to say too much. "Isn't it difficult to run a business?"

"Depends on the business." She took an idle sip of her drink, still eyeing him almost warily. Raines had to wonder why she was being so observant; he decided that she was probably watching out for potential enemies.

"Still, it must not be easy," she mused. "Being instated so soon after the fiasco with the Pulse l'Cie. They still haven't been found since escaping the Palamecia, correct?"

"True," he admitted; inwardly, he was currently wincing. He knew exactly where the l'Cie probably were by now: in Pulse, trying in vain to find a way to rid themselves of their curse. But he couldn't exactly tell anyone that, much less the head of a very important company. He didn't want this young lady getting involved.

"What a shame," she sighed. "I think everyone would lose less sleep if they were caught."

He suddenly felt insulted; that had been a jab at him. He was sure of it. However, he didn't allow himself to react immediately, taking time to carefully compose a response.

"There are other dangers closer to home to consider," he stated firmly. For some reason, this caused her eyes to narrow almost dangerously, as though it had been him insulting her this time. Seeing her thrown off balance was actually quite satisfying, though he knew it was childish to think that way.

"Of course, that's understandable," she said, recovering much more quickly than he. With a colder manner than before, she nodded to him again. "We can't have you taking up all of my time, Primarch Raines." In a dexterous move, she switched their champagne glasses (hers nearly empty, his still quite full; he didn't typically drink) quickly enough that he almost didn't see it. "Thank you for the drink, sir, it was nice of you to give it to me." With that, she marched away, to speak to several other prominent members of society.

Raines stared after her for a few moments before sighing; his sixth sense was telling him that Miss Schiffer was somehow going to be trouble. He didn't know how, but somehow… somehow she was important.

He drained the last of her champagne, and exited the party. There was only so much politics he could take in one night.

* * *

><p><em>What are you doing?<em> Lightning screamed at herself as she took a break from all of the stifling conversation. _You just snubbed Raines! RAINES! Great first impression on the Primarch, I'm sure! And that thing with the drinks- yeah, that'll get his attention off of you. Brilliant work today, idiot!_

"Miss Schiffer?" asked Edmund, startling her. "Do you wish to retire for the night? Adriana has arranged an apartment for you, somewhere a bit homelier and useful than your training spot; I hope you don't mind."

She shook herself. "Not at all, Edmund," she said, smiling. "Tell my aunt that I'm grateful. And yes, I would like to leave. I'm worn out."

He bowed again, and she followed him, exchanging goodbyes and fake smiles with all of the guests. She had been filing away names and personalities all night to use later. Already she was making plans for her first day at the office, and trying to think of a way to contact the Cavalry anonymously. A small part of her was disappointed to see that Raines was no longer in attendance, but mostly she was relieved. She didn't think she could keep up her act with him around.

As she slid into the black car (Edmund was the driver; she distantly wondered if there was anything that he couldn't do), she sighed, relaxing fully for the first time since early that afternoon. Lightning knew that by the end of the week, she would probably be a nervous wreck, and who knew how long she would have to deal with this, anyway?

Grimly, she set a single goal for herself, which she knew she absolutely had to keep.

_No matter what,_ she told herself as they drove through the brightly lit city, _You will still be Lightning Farron. Remember that, above all else. _

_ Remember who you are._

* * *

><p>Author's note: Yay! Raines and 'Marion' meet! And now the catastrophe begins! And poor Fang…<p>

I know I had a request that I explain a lot on what happens to the other l'Cie while Lightning is gone, but this fic is meant to be Lightning centric, so I can't do that. One of the major things hanging over her head is that they don't have her anymore, and she feels guilty about that. I'll probably re-introduce Wanda next chapter, as well as that Derrick guy.

I'm starting to love Edmund. He's like one of those kick-ass butlers that are totally cool.

Huh… and this is kind of random, but what would you all think if someone (not me) were to write a fic where Lightning wakes up in Hojo's laboratory to find out that her entire life has been a lie in order to train her to become a SOLDIER? Food for thought, people. Again, me being random.

One more thing. I have a poll on my profile that asks whether or not Lightning should be paired with the Purple Guy in XIII-2. If you have an opinion, go ahead and vote.

Review, please!


	4. Note

**Hey everyone!**

**Wow, talk about the dead coming back to life.**

**This story (like all of the others on this account) has been discontinued by me.**

**HOWEVER: ChimeraIce will be taking over from this point onward. I don't know if they've started it (they might've been waiting for me to post this, in which case it's my fault because I couldn't get into my old account for a while), but I think they'll be getting it up and running soon.**


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